


I Couldn't Hide From The Thunder (In a Sky Full of Song)

by captainpeach



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Family, Family Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Nightmares, Other, PLATONICALLY. dont be weird., Platonic Relationships, Sharing a Bed, yeah this is purely self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27727145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainpeach/pseuds/captainpeach
Summary: 'Klaus hated nightmares. He couldn’t recall the last time he had gotten a full nights sleep. They had left the island a year ago now, and still, even out of the environment that left him traumatized, and the man who had chased them gone, the nightmares had not left him. Oftentimes, he’d wake up with tears tracking down his face, and a concerned Sunny tapping his arm.'Klaus still has nightmares.
Relationships: Klaus Baudelaire & Violet Baudelaire
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	I Couldn't Hide From The Thunder (In a Sky Full of Song)

**Author's Note:**

> this is pretty short, but not every fic needs to be 20k words. sumtimes the short stuff gets the point across. And I rlly just wanted to write about Klaus

Klaus hated nightmares. He couldn’t recall the last time he had gotten a full nights sleep. They had left the island a year ago now, and still, even out of the environment that left him traumatized, and the man who had chased them gone, the nightmares had not left him. Oftentimes, he’d wake up with tears tracking down his face, and a concerned Sunny tapping his arm.

Tonight was no exception it seemed. He woke with a start, the image of Count Olaf standing over him in his hospital disguise still on the back of his eyelids as he sat up. He looked towards the door, expecting- or hoping- his little sister to come toddling into the room, woken by his cry. Or his older sister to creak the door open with Bea ii on her hip. But no one came. Not Sunny, and not Violet. They had had a long day, out and about running errands and getting groceries for dinner (Sunny was becoming quite the cook) so he supposed they must have been too deep in sleep to hear him.

One half of him felt relieved that he hadn’t woken his sisters, the other wished Violet would come running. To wrap her arms around him and stop the shakes that racked his body. He wiped his eyes and glanced up at the clock on the wall. Three AM. He had fallen asleep only two hours ago and he was already being woken, very rudely, by his subconscious.

Slowly, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and slid to the floor. The hardwood planks were cold against his bare feet as he went to the door. He hesitated before he opened the door. It was just a nightmare, was it really worth waking his already exhausted sister? But he knew Violet would be worried when he came down with circles under his eyes in the morning. So he opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

The upstairs hallway was dark without windows to let the moonlight in and he had to pause to let his eyes adjust. After a moment, the hallways became clearer, the pictures on the walls fuzzy in the low light, but the shape of them visible. He walked down the long hall, squinting the whole way until he came to the familiar white door. A piece of paper was stuck to the door. It read, in messy handwriting ‘vilets room’, underneath the handwriting was a stick figure drawing of Violet. Klaus had something similar on his own door, and Bea ii as well. Sunny had made them, insisting that they be able to tell the difference between the doors, so they wouldn’t walk in on each other. Doing what, Klaus hadn’t bothered to ask. Violet had gladly tacked them to the door, and there they stayed.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his still-shaking hands, then pushed the door open slowly. Violet’s room was messy, messier than his at least. A desk had been shoved into the far corner of the room, across from Violet’s bed. Papers, tools, and parts spilled over it. Laundry was on the floor, fallen from the hamper by the door. The walls were a gentle reddish-pink, washed out in the pale moonlight streaming from the window. And in the corner was Violets bed, where she lay, with soft white blankets piled on top of her, and way too many pillows under and around her head.

Her head raised as the door opened, she blinked at him as she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She didn’t say anything when she spotted him in the doorway, simply shuffled aside and lifted the sheets for him. He walked over silently and climbed into the bed. Violet wrapped her arms around him and set her chin on top of his head as the blanket fell back around them.

He could hear the steady beat of her heart and feel the way her shoulders moved with her breath. It was comforting. A reminder that she was safe and alive, and so was he.

**Author's Note:**

> ty for reading ^-^


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